How Do You Feel, Superman?
by EkriFiction93
Summary: Clark is having one of those nights where he feels like he can't take much more. This is a very short read and I'd love your feed back on it!


**How Do You Feel, Superman?**

**(A more realistic look into Superman's mind)**

The cold night air scraped his face and dried his eyes. He stood still in the air, far above the city, looking down at the streets, the lights, the people. Snow began to fall. He looked up at the full moon and felt an overwhelming urge to cry. "What should I do?" He asked himself. He looked around and saw a church and thought, "Why not?" He flew to the church and landed gently at the front steps. He hesitated for a moment then slowly began walking up the steps leading to the main entrance. The doors were big, wooden and old but looked like they could still last a hundred more years. He grasped the handle and pushed the doors open, immediately feeling a gust of warm air hit him. He stepped in, wiped his feet on the place mat and walked through the foyer. There were ginger scented candles lit and tiny pine trees along the dark brown wooden walls. He looked through the main opening and saw rows of pews and a man at the alter who looked to be changing the décor. He made his way up to the man, whose back was turned toward him.

"Hello?" he said timidly.

"Son, do you know what time it is?" the man said with his back still turned to him.

"I'm sorry. I know it's late but—"

"No, no, no! There's no need to apologize, young man. I was just asking what the time was. My watch is broken."

"Oh. Uh…" he took out his watch and had a long stare at it. It was the last Christmas gift he got from his father before he passed.

"The time, son. What's the time?" the man asked again.

"Oh, sorry. It's 3:30am." He replied.

"Jesus Christ! Is it really that late?! Time really does fly." He stepped back from the alter and began to turn around. "So what can I help you with, s-" The man's face froze in shock. He continued to look on in disbelief.

"Well, Father, I was hoping I could talk to you? Just as friends or something. I just need a listening ear."

"Uh, er… sure. Yes, of course, Superman." The man said a little flustered.

"Please, you don't have to call me that. Actually, I'd prefer it if you don't call me that, if it's not too much trouble."

"No, no trouble at all. So what would you like me to call you then?"

"Clark. Just Clark is fine, thank you, Father uh…"

"Moliere. I'm Father Moliere, but you can call me Gustav."

"Okay, Gustav. It's nice to meet you."

"Like wise." Gustav walked up to Clark extending his hand.

"Thank you for your time." Clark said lightly grasping Gustav's hand, so as not to injure him.

"Not at all." He said reassuringly. "So just follow me and we can talk in the back. It's more private that way."

Clark's head was hung low and his eyes were fixed on the multi colored carpet, which he thought was a bit odd to have considering it didn't match the beige walls at all. They sat across from one another in silence for several moments before one decided to break the air.

"So, talk to me. How do you feel, Clark?" Gustav asked. Clark's head slowly rose, making eye contact with Gustav, but quickly looked away. His eyes began to narrow and his bottom lip quivered. He was struggling with his words. Gustav was a bit taken back to see Superman, the Man of Steel himself, looking so vulnerable. "What's bothering him?" He asked himself. Clark took a deep breath and put his face in his hands.

"I'm sorry, I just—

"There are no apologies necessary. Just take your time." Gustav said encouragingly.

Clark removed his hands, sat back in his armchair and let out a long sigh. "How do I feel?" he began. "I feel weak. I feel so very weak. I'm the strongest man in this world and I feel like glass." He paused for a moment, and then continued. "Superman. Sometimes I really hate that name. I would like to save everyone, but I can't. I'd like to be the perfect role model, but I'm not. I'd like to have what it takes to be the leader that everyone expects me to be, but I don't know if I do. I don't like to be called super. I'm not super really. I'm a regular guy who happened to be born with amazing abilities. But having all the physical strength in the world doesn't mean I can't break too. Having invulnerability doesn't mean I won't get hurt or feel pain. When something happens, when something goes wrong they look to me. Everyone looks to me as _the_ solution. 'Don't worry, Superman will save us.' Is what I'd hear them say and I can't get to all of them. Is it fair for them to put all of this on me? I started to help people because it was just what I wanted. I wanted to help and save people, but I've become more than that now. A savior to the masses, a perfect hero archetype is what they see. There's no room for mistakes, flaws, failures or feelings. I've become so grand. The bigger they make me, the more parts of the world are put on my back. They've made an Atlas out of me and I think I'm beginning to resent them for it. That scares me. I can't resent the people I'm trying to protect. They need me."

"Do they need you?" Gustav enquired.

"They'd be so much worse off without me. People would die without me. I can't turn my back."

"People die every day, Clark. And people will always die whether you're there or not."

"Are you saying I should just walk away from all of them, just like that?!" Clark said sounding agitated.

"No. I'm just trying to tell you that you don't have to make yourself responsible for everyone's life."

"I know, but it's hard not to. Seeing them look up at me. They don't just see a man who saves people. They see hope. Hope for a better future. They see security and safety. They see the reason they're able to sleep peacefully at night. I could never walk away from that. Not now."

"Do _you_ need them?" Gustav asked.

"Do I need them?" Clark took a moment to think. "Well… maybe. I'm not sure."

"If you were ordinary and didn't save people, what would you do?"

"I don't know, be normal, I guess." Clark's face sunk.

"You don't seem to relish that thought."

"Well, no. I like to save people it gives me purpose, but it's what people have made me into…"

"You'd like to be not so much of a big deal to people." Said Gustav.

"Yes." Replied Clark.

"I must admit, Clark, I'm surprised to hear these things from you."

"Yes, I'm sure that's because of how well it's hidden. I swear, Gustav, I should win an Oscar." Clark joked, and then his expression became more serious. "Look, I smile, I wave, say all the right things and even look the part too. But inside, there are some days where I'm screaming, just because I'm so tired. I need a break, you know? But there's always someone that needs saving and evil that needs stopping. That's the never ending battle that is my life."


End file.
